Sleepy Are the Edges of Time
by iamzeblindbandit
Summary: A mysterious veil is found...Time's rules will be ignored. What chaos can be wreaked when the final spells of a heathen goddess are broken? How are Will and Elizabeth going to survive ten years alone? The tale of three pirates, kids, and the sea. R&R plz!
1. Prologue: Time's Tapestry

Deep in the folds of the tapestry upon which history is so carefully woven, the story of three children, three nefarious pirates, time, and the sea lies on the spool waiting to be spun. Another crease runs to meet this empty spot and it tells the tale of a veil, made by the heathen gods. The goddess Semai oversaw its making. The weavers were minor gods and goddesses who had a talent at the loom. At the very bottom of the veil, Semai was to finish off the final stitches and ending knots. She was a very busy goddess, often called all over the seven seas to sort out the affairs of mortals who got in the way of Time's ceaseless flow. She was tying the last three knots of the veil when she was yet again called away to stop a man from finding the Fountain of Youth.

This man was clever, and knew the stories of all the heathen gods. He expected her arrival, and he knew how to stop her. If he drank from the Fountain, he would become an immortal. Power would surge through him, and he would be recognized as a god himself. He killed Semai, his idiocy causing him to forget the imbalance it would bring on the world. The veil was never finished, and it slowly unraveled, with no one to care for it. Thousands of years later, it would have unraveled the spells placed upon it. Mortals would be able to see it, and waylay it. Chaos could be wreaked. In her final dying moments, Semai was able to hide the island upon which it was hidden. She never noticed the men who were hiding, watching her final movements. They would be able to find the island, now that they knew where it was.

Unfortunately, all those who approached the island in later years did not return. Few did, and they were never the same. Frightened and half-mad, they learned to fear the god forsaken place, dubbing it "Isla De Muerta."

_**Sleepy are the Edges of Time…**_

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**My first POTC fanfic...I hope you like it! This is just the prologue, there's much more to come!**


	2. By Earth Apart

_Now you're gone,  
__I'm left with "I don't know's", "Who knows where's"  
__And angels out at sea.  
As you left, you said to me,  
Keep my heart; it's always been yours…  
But I'm left with "Remember me's"  
And "I love you's", but I don't get to see  
The angel for whom I came to be.  
I'm left with "come back for me's",  
And "Wish I was with you's",  
Yet I feel empty,  
Without my angel of whom I dream.  
My angel lost to sea,  
My angel alone can help me swallow the grief, the loneliness._

_**-l-**_

_Now you're there, and I here,  
I'm left with "Will you wait's" and "Who knows what's",  
And angels stranded by the sea.  
As I left, you told me,  
Let me come, please don't leave me alone.  
You knew, and I knew, but yet, I wish I could've.  
But now I'm left with "Remember me's"  
And "I love you's", but without you I've turned to stone,  
Without my angel, I'm incomplete.  
I'm left with "I'll come for you's",  
And "Wish you could be here with me's",  
Yet I feel alone,  
Yearning for my angel for whom I live.  
My angel alone can break me free of this curse._

_**./-l-:**__**-l-\.**_

Will was sitting, once again, with his head in his hands, ignoring the rest of the crew. They were quite used to these spells of silence from their captain, and had learned that they were to carry on as they were.

One look around his quarters would tell you that he set much in store by his grief. The walls of the rounded cabin were bare, not even a pirating map adorned the naked stretch of wall. It was not messy, and no papers or rum bottles were strewn about as to be expected of a pirate. The simple bed was made, and the desk that sat in the corner under the window had nothing on it except for a single quill, inkpot, and a sheaf of papers, which, on closer inspection, were letters, all from the same person.

At this point, the ship was as still as it's captain, docked at World's End, waiting for the sunlight to make its way into the watery grave which contained it at night. William heaved a sigh, and, as if with great effort, made his way unwillingly up to deck. It had been nearly a year since the last time he saw her, and already, he felt as if he'd shrivel up and die soon. How was he supposed to wait nine years more?

He had a son, one whom he had never even _glimpsed_, and who would probably grow up hating him for not being there. Will wondered what the boy looked like; did he look more like him or his mother? When did he say his first words? What were they? From Elizabeth's letters, he deduced that his son, whom she had named William James Turner, looked a spitting image of him, but he was an extrovert like her.

As Will weaved through the motley assembly of the crew to reach the helm, nobody looked up at the passing captain, except one Bootstrap Bill, who watched after the young man with trepidation and concern. He got up slowly and followed his son to the wheel, a knowing look of sympathy on his face. Life threw much at him, and he did nothing to deserve it. _Destiny plays cruel games_, he thought.

He cautiously reached for his son's shoulder. "Will?" he called gently. There was still a rift between them, and it was hindered by the fact that if it wasn't for his forgetting, William would be with his wife and son, rather than captaining a forsaken ship and its crew of cowards who's greatest fear was death. Bootstrap knew now that there was far worse than death on the seven seas, and his own son was being forced to face them.

Captain Turner turned around to face his father, a sullen look etched on his face, one that had not left since he first boarded the ship as captain. Flicking a strand of dark hair from his face, he told his father, "I'm fine. Get ready to set sail; it's nearly sun-down." Then, he turned, strode a little past him, and called to the rest of the crew, "To your posts! We sail in five minutes! Let loose the mooring line!"

There was a general scramble as the crew hurried to comply their captain's orders. Ignoring his father, Will turned to the prow of the ship, looking out for some invisible sign as he waited for the sails to be tautened by the winds. Suddenly, a gust of ghostly wind caught his hat and pulled it out to sea.

* * *

Elizabeth stood on the balcony of her house in Isla de Chryseum. A wind whipped her hair across her eyes, and she brushed it away, solely focused on the sunset. Her infant son stood next to her, surprisingly tall for his age, grasping her hand while sucking on the thumb of his other one.

As the final moments of daylight approached, Elizabeth turned suddenly, and ushered him inside. For some reason unknown to anybody but her, Elizabeth Swann Turner preferred to be alone at this time, without even her darling son to intrude upon those moments of solitude, when she felt closer to being whole than at any time in the day.

Stepping back onto the raised wooden balcony, she turned and raised her face to be caressed by the wind and salty sea spray. The top of the boiling red sun could just be made out over the undulating horizon that was the sea.

Suddenly, yet as if on cue, a bright green flash shot out from where the sun disappeared from the surface of the Earth. Elizabeth, undaunted and unsurprised, leaned forwards as she did every day at this time, hoping against all hopes that a ship would be seen the after light of the flash of green. Most every day she turned away, a tear in her eyes and a sigh of defeated agony from detachment new upon the sky.

Today, however, she realized that there was something different about the air. The very salt from the sea spray that hung thick and nearly tangible in the air tasted different. Though there was no ship, Elizabeth spotted a small black blur in the distance. She tensed. Maybe something was wrong?

The wind seemed to pick up the black dot with long fingers and gently tug it towards the waiting woman. Elizabeth watched as it wafted closer to the crashing turf below. Squinting now, she thought it was a hat of some sorts.

The breeze teased it tantalizingly closer and then farther away again. Elizabeth found it difficult to repress the urge to go down to the shore just to see what it was for sure. Just as she was about to give it up as a bit of spare driftwood, it was lifted up into the air and blown hard onto the rocky beach.

This time, Elizabeth could not stop herself. With a squeal of disbelief, she turned and raced through the house, startling her son. Bursting through the front door, she ran hard and true down the steep hill that upon which her home stood. Nearly tripping more than once, she stumbled past the craggy sand dunes, her heart beating a thousand times faster than it did normally.

She stopped short in front of the large stone the hat had caught upon. Something inside her was screaming that this was a sure sign of something gone wrong. Ignoring the voice, she clambered up the side of the gargantuan boulder, and snatched the hat from the protruding point.

Tears falling freely, she hugged the hat to her heart, ignoring the crashing, steadily rising tide, and the ominously resounding booms of a fast approaching storm. Only when the wind blew a particularly hard gust into her face, carrying with it the sound of a crying William James Turner, did she slowly make her way back up the knoll.

Jamming the hat on her head, she stepped across the threshold to pick up the wailing boy and hoist him onto her shoulder. "Shh, it's ok, don't cry," she cooed. "Don't worry, Willie, Daddy's with us, really, he is."

Soon, the child fell asleep on his mother's shoulder. Still rocking him, Elizabeth moved to his adjacent room, to place him gently upon his bed with a kiss to the forehead. She stared at his sleeping form a while and she marveled at how like his father he looked.

Elizabeth quietly stepped out of the room through the door that adjoined her room to his, and moved to sit on her own bed. With shaking hands, she twitched the hat off her head, to hold it in her shaking fingers. She was sure that this was Will's hat, though she had no proof. Something told her that this was for sure his and nobody else's. The tears began to flow down her features again as she pressed it to her face, inhaling his faint scent that lingered despite the heavy sea water that made it drip onto her lap.

"Oh, Will…How am I going to wait nine more years when I can't even hold myself together for one? I love you, I need to see you!" She whispered. She thought she could swear she heard the wind reply with "I love you too, Elizabeth. My greatest wish is to be there…"

Her sleep that night was riddled with dreams of Will's departure and return, along with slowly beating hearts in chests hidden away from all but her.

**_Sleepy Are The Edges of Time..._**

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**I will refrain from begging for reviews, seeing as this is my first POTC fanfic, but be nice please! Flames will be used to light the fire of gushy romance! (Which I don't really like writing, so it won't even be good gushy romance!)**

**Do tell me if I'm doing something wrong, though...**

**--Sepulchral Roses**


	3. Year's Day

•

Elizabeth Swann rose early that day, a small sense of euphoria lifting her heart from its usual misery and desolation. She raked a comb through her tangled golden hair, and set out to prepare for the day, but not before watching the sun rise slowly from the depths of the hungry, clutching sea.

It was a bright, clear day, one that would make anyone feel bolstered and hopeful. For the first time in a year exactly, Elizabeth had cause to share that feeling. She pulled on her deep red coat, for it was a windy day already, though it had hardly begun, and quietly slipped out of her house.

She walked out the mile or so to the town, catching small, uneasy stares as she passed. She hardly ventured out of the house, only for food, the perpetual necessity that hindered her recluse behavior. Not bothering to be daunted by the stares, Elizabeth moved casually across the square, to the bakery, which was just throwing its windows open in hope to let in the mood and sunlight.

She sauntered inside, receiving another stare from the baker, and inhaled the sweet scents coming from the back kitchen. The baker's wife bustled out from the room, and stopped abruptly, eyeing Elizabeth suspiciously.

A few minutes later, Elizabeth nearly skipped out of the bakery carrying a small, square package. She visited the Whittler of the town, and emerged with yet another square package, far smaller than the first.

The bubble of happiness radiated from inside her, and continued to seep steadily throughout her body, to the tips of her fingers and toes. It emanated from her, and reached even those she had talked to.

Finally, Elizabeth arrived at her house, unbearably beautifully white against the warm blue of the sky and ocean that sparkled on three sides of it. She stared out over the sea, waves rolling in from the deep. The bubble of hope punctured for a moment, deflating slowly, but was resealed when she caught sight of her son, rubbing his eyes of sleep, walking clumsily towards the door.

She moved past him, set down the packages, and lifted him free of the ground, twirling him around in dizzying circles. William giggled and squealed; all sleep vanished from his mind. He reached out short, chubby hands for his mother, who all but crushed him to her.

"Happy Birthday, Willie," she whispered. The one year old cocked his head to the side, and said, "I is one, mommy?" in a sweet, baby voice. She nodded seriously. "And you get presents, too! I'll tell you some stories, and we can do _whatever_ you want, Willie!" She tickled his side, and he squirmed from her fingers, precariously, in her arms.

"I wanna go beach!" He cried, struggling to get down from the crushing hug. Elizabeth hesitated a moment after putting him down, but said, "Yes, of course, Willie!" Her voice was only slightly falsely cheery. They hardly ventured out to the beach if she could help it; for the place held certain memories for her, memories which she didn't want forgotten or replaced by new ones.

An hour later, Elizabeth and Willie made their way down to the beach, dressed up for the occasion, and carrying a few parcels. Elizabeth, her arms full, towed Willie along as he held on to her coat. Since she had moved into town, Elizabeth hardly wore a dress, only ever breeches. It felt somehow wrong, to be caught so…_vulnerable_ and unable to run or fight in a dress.

When they had reached the sandy shores of the coast, Elizabeth set down the boxes, and spread out a little sheet for her and Willie to sit on. As the salty wind blew through her golden hair, and whipped through his shaggy black locks.

"Are you hungry, Willie? I've got some food for us, and afterwards, a cake!" Willie was too preoccupied watching the sea to answer. After a minute, he waddled out towards the water silently, as if searching for something. Her breath caught in her throat, and Elizabeth watched him warily. She'd always cautioned him not to go into the water without her, and she knew he wouldn't.

But how did he know to search for something on the deep green waves? How did he know that someone was out there? Someone who meant _so_ much to them both? Elizabeth stared past her son, she too, searching and waiting for _him_ to return, though it wouldn't be for another almost nine years.

Suddenly, a ship appeared out of the distant horizon. Elizabeth sprang up and raced towards the shore and her son, staring out, trying to distinguish the sails, the _captain_. Both mother and son waited tensely.

As the ship approached, Elizabeth realized with a pang of despair and disappointment that she didn't recognize the sails or colors of the ship – it had tiny white sails, and was flying no colors. She let her head fall slightly, but noticed that little Willie's face was still turned towards the horizon.

"That's not daddy, Willie. Let's go eat something, why don't we?" But Willie shook his head and tugged at her hand. Elizabeth let out a resigned sigh, and picked him up off the ground, screaming loudly in protest.

She walked back to the picnic blanket, and withdrew a sugary cake, fruits, and a small assortment of Willie's favorite foods. Unfortunately, Willie had taken to ignoring her, staring determinedly at the now-fast approaching ship.

"Willie, what are you waiting for? Look, I've got you cake! And a present! Don't you want to see what it is?" He shook his head no again. Elizabeth sighed. He'd inherited both his parents' stubbornness and obstinacy.

Suddenly, a cry hailed from the ship, causing Elizabeth to snap her head so fast that she cricked her neck. "Lizzie! Got any rum?!" Captain Jack was back.

She didn't move. How was this possible? She hadn't told anyone where she lived, only Will, for Jack had left along with Barbossa before she and Will had reached the island. Willie turned and gave her an uncharacteristically superior look, his face reading quite obviously, _I told you so._

She laughed uneasily. Was she missing something? Willie seemed to have known he was coming; he'd not given up on watching the tiny ship roll in.

An anchor was thrown unceremoniously overboard, and _Captain_ Jack Sparrow hopped into a dinghy. Elizabeth watched as he rowed to shore, pausing occasionally to drink from a filthy glass bottle.

She smiled to herself, noting that that _particular_ habit yet hadn't left him. Willie reached for his mother's arms, and she swung him up to her shoulders. He pointed unnecessarily at Captain Jack, and said, "Mommy, who he?"

"That, Willie, is Captain Jack Sparrow. He's an old friend of mommy and daddy's." She refrained from saying that Jack was the reason Will had finally confessed to her after a long adventure, during which Will had nearly forced Jack to help him find her, kidnapped by Barbossa. Jack had, in a way, saved her life, and she'd returned the favor by…killing him.

Elizabeth's cheeks colored slightly at that memory, but she brushed it away. It was insignificant, a thing of the past that had nothing to do with the present. It should've been forgotten. "Mommy. Mommy!"

She looked down to see Willie tugging her hand again; he must have asked her something while she had been lost in her reverie. "Yes, Willie?" He frowned at her, evidently displeased that she hadn't heard him. She marveled at how quickly the child had matured to the point where he was at, understanding far more than any other child she had ever encountered.

"I hungy," he said. "Can I ave cake now?" She sighed; she was _not_ a good mother, but she couldn't resist her son's charm, _so_ like his fathers. "Alright, but do you want to wait until Captain Jack gets here?"

"No." He let go of her hand and tottered to the blanket. He waited for her there, in front of the food. Elizabeth helped him; she pulled out a piece of the cake, not bothering with the formalities of "Happy Birthday to You," or candles. Setting it on a small plate, she slowly helped him shovel it into his mouth; his motor skills hadn't developed completely yet, for though he was special, there were limitations. He was only one, after all.

She slowly picked at an apple, wondering what on earth Jack could possibly be doing here.

"OI! 'Lizzie! You aren't going to give ol' Cap'n Jack a proper greetin'?" Elizabeth jumped. She had thought him farther away.

Casting Willie a sideways look, she got up and went to the water's edge, at which Jack was struggling to haul his boat in. "Hello, Jack," she said quietly.

He looked up from the empty-rum-bottle-filled boat and grinned. "_Captain_ Jack, Lizzie." He didn't stop her from hugging him this time, like he had before on the _Pearl_. "Now help me get this ruddy thing t' shore, why don' ya?" He said when he had extricated himself from her.

She sloshed in her boots to the prow, and tugged alongside him. Soon enough, the dinghy was resting upon the sandy turf. Elizabeth returned to Willie, who was gazing in curiosity at Jack. She hoisted him up, careful to avoid his sticky, sugary fingers, and went to introduce him to Jack.

"This the whelp?" he asked. Jack poked Willie in the stomach, causing him to shy away and Elizabeth to throw him a glare. "Don't call him that!" she hissed. After a moment, she said in a softer voice, "Yes, this is Willie."

At this, Willie turned around in his mother's arms and corrected reproachfully, "I is Will_yam_ James Tuhnah. I is one!" He had yet to master his "R"s.

Jack looked taken aback, but he recovered, and said gruffly, "Well, pleased ter meet ya, William James Turner." He was uncharacteristically polite, causing a slight suspicion to take seed in Elizabeth's mind.

"Jack, what brings you here?" She asked, as he stared bemusedly at Willie. His eyes snapped up to hers, and he said in a falsely offended voice, "Wha', can't I visit ole' Lizzie?"

She watched him skeptically. Finally, he muttered, "There's somethin' I need your help wit," She smirked in triumph. "Why you is talkin funny, Capun Jack?" Willie asked, and suddenly tugged at Jack's little goatee.

"YEOWCH! Little whelp…" Both Elizabeth and Willie giggled at Jack's expense. Muttering mutinously, Jack rubbed at his sore chin.

"What does this 'help' entail, exactly? I will never leave Willie, and it's far too dangerous for a one year old to be out at sea." Elizabeth asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Erm, well, it _does_ involve takin' Willie 'ere out to the big blue. But he won' get hurt, Pirate's Honor." Elizabeth snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Pirates Honor! As Pirate King, I know that means nothing. 'More like guidelines, anyway,' you'd said of the Pirate Code. What honor is there in being a pirate, may I ask?"

Willie interrupted Jack's retort. "Mama, what's a piwate? You're a king mommy?" Elizabeth couldn't answer without bringing back painful memories, so she settled for giving Jack a silencing glare.

"Now, Elizabeth, have I lied to yer? I mean, really lied?" He added, catching her incredulous look at his defense. He grimaced. "Erkay, well, this is different. Yer comin. It's only for a few hours."

Elizabeth struggled to put her hands on her hips, while holding Willie. Finally, she settled for one hand, and saying, "Jack, you know I won't. I haven't been on sea since…since I came here!"

"You won' do a favor fer Captain Jack Sparrow?" he pleaded. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, she agreed, grumbling about how early it was to be out at sea.

After much arguing, Elizabeth traded her red coat for her old Pirate King gear, minus most of the weapons, and plus a chest. A chest in which her most prized possession beat evenly, forever.

Willie was forced, struggling, into a much more weather-resisting outfit, which he tried in vain to fling off. At long last, they slipped into the dinghy, which Jack had managed to lug back into the water while Elizabeth was inside the house.

Jack rowed them quickly to his ship, which was tiny; like a toy, in comparison to the _Pearl_. Elizabeth eyed him suspiciously. "Jack! This isn't a ruse to get help in retrieving the _Pearl_ for you, is it? Because, I refuse to do that with Willie here, and I am _not_ leaving him behind."

He grinned wolfishly. "No, you'll see, 'Lizzie. It' not the _Pearl_." Elizabeth resisted the urge to smack him for his mysteriousness. Instead, she said, "My name is Elizabeth."

"And I am Captain Jack Sparrow!" he retorted annoyingly, continuing to row towards his ship. Willie, whom Elizabeth was restraining from falling into the water, squirmed and asked, "Cap Sparrow? Is that _your_ boat?"

To which Jack gave him a maddeningly superior look, and said, "No, 'tis not. That's me temporary ship. She's The Legacy."

"Are all ships _girls_?" Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh. "Actually, yes, Willie, they are. But that's because mostly boys sail them." He didn't pretend to understand, but continued to lean towards the water, taking it in with wide eyes.

Soon enough, Jack had towed them to his ship, The Legacy, which was tiny and insubstantial looking compared to his old _Pearl_. It was a bit of a scramble getting up, but they managed, using many lengths of rope.

All of a sudden, he was everywhere, setting the ship to go, although he hadn't really stopped it, only weighed it down with the anchor. There were no mooring lines to loose, nor did he have to turn the ship. Elizabeth, still having her sea legs, carefully put Willie down, and loosened the sails, which immediately tautened in the wind.

Willie found his way around to the wheel, somehow, and was busily playing with it, turning it every which way, causing the ship to creak with the effort of turning in strange ways in the current. "Oi! Whelp! No! Stop! STOP!" Jack scurried to the wheel from the aft and plucked Willie of the wheel, causing him to break out in screams and shouts of protests.

"Jack, that is _not_ the way you handle a child!" Elizabeth chided, hushing Willie.

"He wus messin with me ship!"

She shot him a glare, and he recoiled, mumbling mutinously under his breath. He turned the wheel a full 360, and the sails caught, propelling the ship forward, and out to sea. Elizabeth cast the shore a wistful glance, which Jack caught.

"You'll be back at sundown," he reminded.

"You still won't tell me what you're taking me out here for?"

"No."

"Mommy, I wanna see watuh! Mommy, is this my pwesent?" Willie had somehow managed to free himself of her, and was standing near the walls of the side of the ship, pointing through a large crack.

"Ah, no, Willie, this is Captain Jack's present for you. Your present is still with me. I'll give it to you when we get home, okay? That way it won't fall into the water."

He nodded, and contended himself with peering through the crack at the water, rushing by several feet below. Elizabeth watched him through her peripheral vision as she caught up with Jack.

"So what've you been up to, Jack?"

"Me, I've been trying to get me back _my_ ship, an then I can find that blasted Fountain." He mumbled the last few words.

"Fountain? What fountain?" Her brow furrowed as her golden hair flew around her in wisps.

"Youth." He looked casually away.

"_The_ Fountain of Youth? Captain Jack Sparrow, I'm not helping you find that fountain. Sorry, but that's something you have to do for yourself." She turned from him stubbornly.

"No, that's fer later. Now, there's someone I want you to meet, but we're not going to see them unless you help me to get this ruddy thing to where we're supposed to meet."

She turned back, to catch him fidgeting with his Piece of Eight uncomfortably. His hand shot down when he followed her gaze. "Who?" She inquires, ignoring his strange actions.

Captain Jack Sparrow simply pointed at a few ropes which had slackened against the strain. Sighing in defeat, she ducked under his outstretched arm and set to work, keeping a wary eye on Willie, and occasionally catching Jack fidgeting with his Piece.

Once the ropes were stretched to their full capacity, Elizabeth huffed out her breath, plopping down wearily. The ship seemed to pick up speed, due to both the increase in wind velocity and the freshly tautened sails.

Suddenly, Jack flicked something that looked suspiciously like a coin in the water, and Elizabeth watched its progress through the air, listening and watching for a splash to divulge its weight and value. None came.

She frowned. Why would Captain Jack Sparrow, the _Pirate_ throw _money_ into the hungry sea? She stood to ask him, but fell over just as suddenly, when a large wave rocked the ship. Willie squealed and clutched Jack's side to prevent himself from falling.

"Willie!" She sprung up again, and raced to her son, picking him up to shield him from the sudden gusts of stormy wind that were blowing the ship off course. She watched in horror as the sky went from a sparkling blue to a deep, seething, stormy grey.

Jack, however, was aloof and carefree. He merely shrugged, and said, "Just a storm. Go to the eye, neh?"

He spun the wheel so fiercely that it spun several revolutions before he stopped it. "Er, no! This is a _hurricane_! A _typhoon_! We're going to have to fight tooth and nail to get out of this one! Jack! You promised no danger would come to Willie! THIS IS DANGEROUS!"

Elizabeth screamed herself hoarse for a while, but gave up when he shrugged off her yells. She gathered up Willie, and took him to Jack's cabin. "Willie, you stay here and don't go anywhere, ok? Be good for mommy. I'll be back as soon as the ship stops rocking, ok?"

Willie, who looked ready to burst into tears, said, trembling, "Mommy, I is scawed!" She squeezed him tight, saying, "Oh, Willie, no, don't be scared! It's all right, everything's all right, don't worry! Mommy's going to help make the ship move like this, ok? You just stay here. See? Look, it feels like your rocking chair back home!" She couldn't even delude herself this.

Yet, she set Willie down, placing a kiss on his forehead. "I'll be right back, ok Willie? Don't cry, don't be afraid." She whispered, and ran up to the deck, closing the cabin door behind her.

She surfaced into freezing rain, the wind blowing gales in all directions. Running despite the lack of support beneath her boots, slippery on the deck due to the rain, she reached Jack, who was waving his compass madly and turning the wheel.

"Jack! What are you doing! We have to get out of this storm!" He flashed a manic grin, pressed his hat tighter onto his head, and blatantly ignored her.

Elizabeth groaned in exasperation, and clambered up to the Crow's Nest, hanging on for dear life to the soaked wood as the ship continued to leap precariously over titanic waves. Up on the Nest, she could hardly see more than before, the rain lashing out at her face, drenching her as effectively as the crashing swells below.

Tugging her soaked hair out of her face, she looked through the grey darkness, leaning as far as possible outwards. Nowhere could she spot another, more able ship, nor could she find people or any sign of life. They were all alone, being thrown around by the ocean, like a ball in a child's hands.

Just as she was about to give up, the prow of an unbearably, endearingly familiar ship broke the surface of the heaving sea…

Jack saw her falling, hearing her screams being lost in the rage of the winds. He frowned, and cut the sails, not having time to catch her himself. The huge sheets flapped in the wind, and caught Elizabeth's drenched body, slowing her down.

She had just enough time and consciousness left in her to yank a short knife from her boot and stab it into the thick material of the sails. She continued falling, but it was not as free, and it was far slower. She winced as the tearing sounds jarred into her ear.

Heart thumping in adrenaline, she landed on her wobbly legs, which buckled immediately. She frowned and hauled herself up using the mast. She noticed the lack of rain and wind – it was as if they were in the eye.

Looking around, she noticed that Jack was no where to be found; she'd wanted to thank him for saving her life. She chanced a peek over the side of the ship, at the thing that had caused her so much shock that her grip had slackened – _The Flying Dutchman_.

Its captain was staring back, although his eyes held not disbelief, but guilt and concern. Elizabeth felt her heart beat erratically, completely off beat. "Will," she breathed, tears of joy leaping into her eyes.

She closed them, tightly, to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. Maybe she died when she fell. _Was this – heaven_? She asked herself. Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her, and she jumped, her eyes snapping open.

Will stood before her, smiling slightly. "Elizabeth," he said. Her heart stopped completely for a moment, and she flung her arms around him, holding tighter than she would have thought possible.

It had been nearly two years since they'd seen each other. Words alone could never make up for the feelings that hung between them as their lips crashed together fiercely.

"Ahem…" Jack coughed behind the couple, and they broke away to glare in annoyance. He held Willie at arms length, nose scrunched against the smell.

Will turned to him, but spoke to Elizabeth. "Is this…" She smiled and put a hand on his arm, taking Willie gently from Jack, and handing him to Will. Willie simply stared with wide, curious eyes.

She wrapped an arm around Will, and he around her, both looking down at the child. Willie, getting annoyed with the emotion that was emanating so strangely from his mother's face, turned to Will and asked, "Who is you?"

Will jumped, and Elizabeth laughed. "He's the most intelligent child I've ever seen. He's been talking for a while now. It's his first birthday."

"Hello, Willie," Will began, after processing Elizabeth's words. "I'm…I'm your father. My name's William Turner, just like you!" Willie turned confused eyes to his mother, searching for verification to Will's words.

She was too busy staring at Will, hoping to catch his expression at whatever Willie's response was to notice. Finally, Willie asked, "Weally?"

Elizabeth turned back to her son. "Yes, Willie, this is Daddy. He came just to celebrate your birthday with you!"

Jack, who had been standing off to the side awkwardly up to this point muttered, "There's some truth in that."

Will realized it was the time to tell his tale.

_**Sleepy are the edges of time…**_

* * *

**A slightly longer chapter for you guys. What do ya think? Is it worth reading? Should I keep the chapters shorter? **

**Should I quite writing it? Let me know; just press that little blue button down there, and tell me what you think, even if it's bad. Flames without a real reason will simply be ignored, though, but constructive criticism is much appreciated (and needed). Thanks!**

--_Sepulchral Roses_--


	4. Piece of Two

_**Previously on Sleepy Are the Edges of Time...**_

_"Hello, Willie," Will began, after processing Elizabeth's words. "I'm…I'm your father. My name's William Turner, just like you!" Willie turned confused eyes to his mother, searching for verification to Will's words._

_She was too busy staring at Will, hoping to catch his expression at whatever Willie's response was to notice. Finally, Willie asked, "Weally?"_

_Elizabeth turned back to her son. "Yes, Willie, this is Daddy. He came just to celebrate your birthday with you!"_

_Jack, who had been standing off to the side awkwardly up to this point muttered, "There's some truth in that."_

_Will realized it was the time to tell his tale._

* * *

"What does he mean by that?" She asked, a note of suspicion in her voice.

Will grimaced, and led both Elizabeth and Willie over to a pile of stacked barrels, upon which he sat them down, and paced in front.

"While I was…out, I found Tia Dalma – or what she is now, Calypso. She understands, you see? She only meant this…_punishment_ for Davy Jones. She never knew that it would one day pass down to me – until I met her, that is. 'A touch of destiny about you,' she'd said." He spoke quietly, choosing his words carefully.

Elizabeth and Jack watched as he paced, listening closely. Willie, however, had fallen asleep, tired from the exhaustingly long day.

"She can't take it back – I'm still doomed to this – this _torture_ of being forced to ferry the dead to World's End for ten years, and stepping on land once at the end. What she did, however, was to tell me the exact words of her curse. She left me to figure the rest out for myself, of course, for I was the one responsible, however indirectly, for Davy Jones' death.

The curse was that Davy Jones would have to guide the dead souls – imprints – to their rightful place, and he was only allowed to step on land once in ten years. If he did not abide by his duty, a more terrible fate would become him – what we saw him last as, turning into the sea himself. This was his penalty for cutting his heart out to leave her." Will took a deep breath, and suddenly swooped down to meet Elizabeth's eyes.

"I would never, _never_ do that to you," he whispered. She smiled, cupping a hand around his cheek, and said, "I know, Will, I would never worry about that. I only worry that…" she trailed off, tears springing to her eyes.

Will frowned. "What do you worry about, love?" he asked gently. She shook her head, but said sheepishly, "that I won't be able to survive nine more years without you. That I'm going to try to find some way to join you on the _Dutchman_. I know it's foolish, but –"

"No! Elizabeth, whatever you do, promise me you will never do anything to hurt yourself. Promise me!" he gasped in alarm.

Elizabeth ducked her head, tearing her eyes away from him. "I promise," she mumbled. Will smiled, and lifted her chin gently with a rough hand. "Thank you. Besides, you won't have to wait nine more years."

She stared, and Jack smirked at her shock. "_Now _we get to the method behind my madness…" he muttered. Elizabeth turned and looked at him sharply, her eyes flicking back to Will for an explanation.

"Calypso...she never thought about the loopholes in her curse. Or perhaps she made them on purpose, hoping that Jones would find them. But no matter, for she helped me herself, by telling me to search for them." He stood again, and resumed his pacing, but keeping it restrained, only a couple of feet to either side of Elizabeth.

"You see, I've found out that I can see you – as long as I'm not on land. But it's once a year. On Willie's birthday." He looked down fondly at his sleeping son, who stirred, as if he'd heard his name.

Deep brown eyes opened, and Willie blinked in the cloudy light. "Mommy?" he called, searching for her. He found her in looking up – she was holding him in her arms and lap.

"Yes Willie?"

He didn't answer, his eyes having found Will once more. He'd been about to tell her of his fantastic dream, where he met a man who said he was his father. But it looked to be true.

Will leaned down, and picked up the child. After a long silence, Willie asked timidly, and to the pleasure of both his parents, "D-Daddy?"

Will smiled so widely his face hurt. To hear his only child for the first time – to be called 'daddy' for the first time – it was a feeling that could not be matched by anything at all in the world.

"Yes, Willie, I am daddy." Being a man of few words, Will stopped there, unsure of what to say. Fortunately, both his wife and son were not introverts, and could easily make up for it.

Elizabeth, who had been watching the pair fondly through their first meeting, said "Will, Willie, you can't even begin to imagine what it's like to see you two together for the first time. This meeting should have happened when Willie was born. I'm glad that you've met before ten years. Although you won't really get to know each other, it was so vital that this happen."

Her words were directed in most part to Will, but it was Willie who answered. "Ten yeahs mommy? Daddy?" he looked between the two.

Elizabeth bit her lip, and Will looked uncomfortable. "Would you like to tell him, Will? I was waiting…" she struggled to supply him with a reason.

"For the opportune moment?" Jack quipped helpfully. He took a swig from a rum bottle that had suddenly materialized within his fingers, unnoticed by all else.

"Exactly." Will sighed, and said, "Perhaps it's better to wait for that moment? I suppose it would be easier if…" he trailed off, catching Willie's look.

Elizabeth decided to save him the trouble, and told Willie, "Willie, yes, ten years. Before you were born, Daddy was…"

"Trying to save the pirates…"

"Well, Willie, Daddy was helping us, and he got stuck. A mean old man…decided…that your daddy would have to stay here, on the sea, for ten years, without going on land once. But daddy loves us both very much, and he found a way that he can see us every year. On your birthday, Willie." Elizabeth supplied him with a much watered down version of the events.

Fortunately, it was enough for the time. Willie looked up at his father, who was suddenly reminded of something. "Willie, I just remembered. I got you a birthday present!"

As he fished in his pockets, Elizabeth said, "Oh, yes! Me too! I'll be right back."

She hopped up, and went below deck, where she'd stowed the chest and the smaller square package. She grabbed the second, and, with a second glance at the chest, retreated back to deck.

Will had just extracted a small bundle from his pocket, and was just about to give it to Willie when Elizabeth plopped down next to them. She held out the parcel. Willie, unused to receiving gifts, stared out at his parents, and tried to pick which to take first.

Elizabeth laughed, and took Will's present from him, and handed him hers. She handed it to Willie, then helped him unwrap it.

The bundle came apart slowly, the soft cloth unfolding to reveal a little figure carved in wood. Elizabeth peeked closer as Willie cocked his head in bewilderment and curiosity. What was this man, who called himself his father going to give him?

A small gasp escaped Elizabeth as the figure was a perfectly carved portrait of her, Will, and Willie. Together, as they should have been when Willie was born. It was small enough to be hooked on to a chain of sorts, perhaps one similar to the one Will wore around his neck, over his missing heart.

Willie took it, and pulled it close to his face to examine the intricate details of the piece, as Will scrutinized his son's face to read what his reaction was.

After a minute of examination, Willie smiled, and then, poking the figure, asked, "This me? An' you and mum?" Will smiled, gathering both Elizabeth and Willie in his arms, told him, "Yes, that's our family. Together," he added ruefully.

Elizabeth leaned into him, once again capturing his lips in hers. After what seemed like hours, they broke apart, breaths coming slightly short. Elizabeth tilted her face up to his, and said "Family…Well, we're all together now, aren't we? Why not take advantage of that and make the best of it?"

She didn't notice Jack and Willie's bemused and ensnared looks at their tender moments as Will leaned into her face again, and murmured, "Yes…I only wish…but it can't be. I love you," against her lips.

Leaning away after a moment, Will added, "both of you," sending a smile to his son, who was watching, head cocked, a slightly disgusted looked on his face, masked by sheer bafflement.

Jack coughed, and said, "Well, er…I suppose I'll…leave you to it, then…" He started to get up.

Will caught his coat, and said, "Jack, I want to thank you. Without you, I wouldn't have seen Elizabeth for another eight and a half years." Elizabeth offered a smile, standing up, added, "and I Will. Thank you, Jack. See? I knew it. You've proven time and again that you're a good man, Captain Jack Sparrow."

She reached over and squeezed his hand. Looking surprised, he withdrew quickly, and shuffled awkwardly below deck, causing her to laugh. "Pirate!" he called, voice coming from beneath their feet. "Good _pirate_," he corrected.

Both Elizabeth and her husband rolled their eyes. "Leave it up to him to ruin a perfectly good moment," she condoned loudly enough for the sound to travel through the floor. Willie giggled, not knowing what his mother was talking about.

"Momma, a piwate?" Thus re-alerting his parents to his presence, a tickle fight broke loose, and the laughs, shrieks, giggles, and squeals of a most story book-ish family could be heard for a long time.

For the first time, a family reunited completely, one that never deserved to be so torn. A family loving enough to send shivers of envy and love through any who had the great fortune to glance upon them.

Unfortunately, all good things have an end; usually one that rips the hearts out of the strongest, bravest, and best. After an unforgivingly short day, sunset was fast approaching, and both Will and Elizabeth knew the time had come to leave each other once more.

Yet, it was needed to be said to make the entire day real. It had been far too perfect to be possible. Willie, asleep in his father's arms for the first time had no notion that they wouldn't see each other for another year.

Will leaned his forehead against his wife's. "Come sunset, I must leave. I have already shirked my duties long. Because it has been but a year, I haven't turned…into the sea. But I cannot stay much longer; I feel myself slipping away, almost." He breathed, eyes closed in pain.

Elizabeth grabbed his wrists and said, "Will, can't you just…ask this one favor of Calypso? You never chose this fate! I may be selfish in asking for this, but I can't just let you go again! You don't know how broken I was! I could hardly think, let alone live as I would've!"

Will looked away, facing the sun. "I know. I know. Maybe you should have never associated yourself with me. Then neither of us would have been put through this situation. I cannot stay; the _Flying Dutchman _has not another captain."

Elizabeth stared, feeling as if she were slapped in the face. "You don't really mean that," she whispered, mortified.

"No, I don't. But I cannot stay, you know it." He still did not look at her.

"No, no, not again! Will, I need you! What do I have of you? Will!" She seized his face, and whispered furiously. He looked at her now, anguished, and gently took her face within his rough hands.

"You have Willie, don't you? Elizabeth, I love you. You know that I want this curse to be over, but it can't be. As for having something of me, I…made you something…and I was ah, "waiting for the opportune moment" to give it to you. I got the idea, in a sick irony, from Davy Jones himself." The scowl slowly turned into a curious frown upon her delicate face.

He put a hand inside his coat, and extracted another parcel wrapped in cloth. Careful not to displace Willie, who had been in his lap, asleep, he pressed it into her palm, closing the fingers around it.

The frown softened to the point that her eyebrows merely contracted slightly in the middle, out of curiosity and bewilderment. Opening her palm slowly, she glanced at Will, who smiled his encouragement.

Elizabeth slowly and gently tugged the cloth out of its fold, and the bundle, smaller than the one that held Willie's figurine, unraveled. Her breath caught in her throat at the beauty of the small silver object.

Bringing it closer to her face in the dusky light, her eyes filled with tears of awe as her eyes caught its fine details. Small and crescent shaped, the music box was covered in swirls, spirals, flourishes, and many intricate details. In its center was embedded a red stone that shone in the final rays of the twilight sun.

Will reached over and gently eased the clasp of the lid loose of its hitch, tilting Elizabeth's chin up so her face was in front of his, gauging her reaction.

The sound that emitted from it was deep and rich, rather than tinny and metallic as was normal. Elizabeth immediately recognized it as one of her favorite pieces of music from her childhood. When she was hardly thirteen she had first heard the song, and fallen in love with it. Her best friend at the time had been, and always would be Will, who learned to play it on her piano for her entertainment. He would play, and she would dance behind, swaying and jumping with the music's flow.

She stared at him now, silently thanking him. "You remembered…" she whispered, listening to the music play.

Will smiled, relieved at her reaction, and kissed her nose. "Of course. You always loved the Allegro. I remember that Bach wrote it just a few months before your thirteenth birthday. I learned to play it for you, although I never really did it justice."

Elizabeth blinked. "You played it perfectly," she said. Then, grinning suddenly, she asked, "Care to dance?"

He raised his eyebrows, but accepted, carefully setting Willie down in a way he'd be comfortable. Letting Elizabeth drag him to the center of the ship, he smiled sadly, knowing that this was the first dance they'd share as husband and wife, yet it had been nearly two years since.

It was a strange feeling for both as the song drew to an end. The final _ritardando_ played out, as their steps grew slower until they were simply swaying to the beat of their hearts. The sun threw their bodies into silhouette, keeping their faces warm.

The spell ended when Elizabeth asked quietly, "Will?" Neither of them moved from their swaying as he answered, "Hmm?"

"Is there really no way you can stay? Or that I can come with you?" It was almost as if she'd said the wrong thing, but instead of getting angry, he just answered sadly, "No, I'm afraid not. I wish there was some way, but if there is, it's eluding the both – three – of us."

He leaned in, kissing her softly once again, and all too soon, the arms wrapped around Elizabeth vanished. She opened her eyes to see him looking once more at his son, and as she blinked, he turned up once again in the ship anchored across the way.

Alone on deck, both Will and Elizabeth stared their wistful fill of each other in the sun's dying rays until darkness and a green flash obscured their visions abruptly. The _Flying Dutchman_ was gone, captain and all.

Elizabeth cast a glance at Willie, and turned to pick him up. It was late, and time to get back home. She stepped slowly down the stairs in the middle of deck, finding Captain Jack Sparrow staring out a porthole, a bottle of rum in his hand.

"Jack?"

He turned around, eyes softening a bit when he realized that Will was gone. "Yes love?"

"Can you take us home, please?" Her voice was too soft, but he knew what she had asked.

"Aye, just a mo'." He took a final swig of his rum, and stood a tad unsteadily. Elizabeth wasn't sure if he'd fall right then or not. He shook his head, and walked towards and past her with a head of purpose, perfectly balanced on his feet.

Elizabeth couldn't help but marvel at how he seemed nearly immune to the vile drink's side effects. She'd only seen them in action once – when she had been stuck on that forsaken island with him before the fight at _Isla de Muerta_.

Feeling as if in a trance, she followed him slowly, and having the prickly, nearly guilty sensation of forgetting something. She leaned her head against Willie's, which lay upon her shoulder.

Resurfacing on deck, she watched detachedly as Jack worked, readying the rigging and boom, raising the anchor, and letting loose the sails from their tangled position. One of them was useless, the one she had ripped in two an eternity ago after losing her balance in shock.

Not caring enough to help, she left him there and chose instead to sit on the stairs and watch the sea that heaved under them. Willie rested his head on her shoulder, but he was awake.

"Mommy? Where'd daddy go?" he asked, dark eyes roaming the ship for his missing father.

Elizabeth hesitated, but decided to tell the truth, or part of it. "I dunno, Willie. We'll see him again later." She did not say it would be yet another year. It would hurt too much. Nevertheless, perhaps it happened for a reason – what was worse? Ten years of solitude, or ten years minus ten days? Once a year, for one day, she'd be able to see him. Was that enough?

"It will have to be," she whispered to herself. The wind carried it away. Begun by wind, by wind completed. This day was over. The wind and the sea washes away all everything. All feeling, all life, all thought, gone. Elizabeth finally understood what it was like to live without a heart.

* * *

_**Sleepy are the Edges of Time…**_

**What do you think, guys?**

**I have to ask something of you readers. _Shall I bring in OC's (own/other characters) or should I simply continue from here?_ Initially, I had planned those OCs, but I can work without them, too if you'd like.**

**Let me know, and please hit that lil blue button down there – you'll get a reply for sure, plus a helping of virtual whatever you want – cake, pie, shoes, houses, whatever.**

**--Sep**


	5. End of the Beginning

_**--Two Hundred and Fifty Years Later (Present)—**_

* * *

Emily glanced around at the clock on the wall. Soon enough, school would be over for the summer, and she would be free of its clutches. She sighed. _Five more minutes,_ she thought. _And then it'll be all over._

Bored, she looked over at her friend, Nicholas, who was drawing random circles on his desk. Suddenly, a word the teacher said caught her attention. _Pirate_. Nick looked up at her, as if he knew exactly what reaction she was having. They both stopped their bored doodling and listened closer.

"…in the Caribbean! They were a menace, as my great-great-great grandmother used to say. And she watched it all from a very close hand – her father was a hand on one of Captain Jack Sparrow's ships, actually. They used to hide treasures all over…I'm sure it would be worth millions now, if someone found any of it. There was one particular treasure…it was cursed, as she said, and it made the people who filched it immortal. But with a price, of course. In the moonlight, they'd turn to skeletons, and nothing they ate or drank would fill them, and they couldn't feel. The British East India Company, as I was saying, was ri…"

Nick flashed Emily a mischievous grin, and she knew exactly what she was going to do after the remaining five minutes. She whispered across the desks, "Meet you there in twenty?"

He nodded. "I dunno what we'll tell my Uncle when he finds it gone again, though!" He chuckled. Emily put on a face of mock thought. Snapping her fingers after a moment, she said, "Saw someone swimming, and thought they were drowning, they were so far. And then the tide carried us further away…" She shrugged.

Nick opened his mouth to say something, but it was lost in a clamor of noise and flying papers. Instead, he just grinned and pointed outside. Emily nodded, and she too took part in the end of school activities of throwing the papers and cheering madly. She shouted a Happy Summer to her other, less close friends, hugging a few of them.

Then, making her way through the stampede of students leaving the classroom and surging through the hallway, she reached the doors that lead outside, and hopped through to fresh summer air. Instead of searching for Nick picking his way through the endless crowd, she walked across the street to the corner, where it was freer.

In a few moments, she saw him push through a gaggle of chatting girls, ruffling his hair as he went. Emily knew that as a sign of impatience and annoyance, but she noticed that a couple of the girls watched him cross the street in a manner that they obviously thought he was trying to show off for them. She stifled a laugh, and playfully ruffled his hair more when he reached her.

"Stop that!" he whined, sounding like a child. He wrinkled his nose to show his annoyance further. She laughed then, saying between breaths, "You've got to stop doing that to your hair; people are…getting the wrong message!" She laughed harder as he whipped around to stare at the girls who had watched him cross the street.

Catching him looking, they turned away quickly and pretended to be deep in conversation, walking towards the gate of the school grounds. "Let's go to the docks," he said gruffly, embarrassed. She stifled her mirth to the best of her abilities, and nodded, but said, "I'll meet you there, gotta tell the 'rents and whatnot."

"Right," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Twenty." He watched her retreating form a while, then turned and made his way to the docks alone. Living in the Florida Keys, he had learned to sail at a young age, and had an extensive knowledge of boats. He even knew a little about the kind that the Spanish Armada may have used centuries ago. His favorite was one type, called the schooner, which he knew the pirates used to sail – a wreck had been found and partially preserved up near Miami, and it was said to be Captain Jack Sparrow's own lead ship.

Soon enough, he was at the docks, and he looked around for his uncle's speedboat. There it was, parked as usual by the small sailing boat and the Jet skis. He hopped in; reaching under the seat for the spare key that he knew would be there. Retrieving it, he twirled it around his finger and climbed out.

He walked stealthily towards one of the restaurants that lined the pier and its docks, ignoring the people who came and went. Reaching his uncle's restaurant, he crept round back, and entered it through the service entrance.

He opened up the chest that sat by the door, ready and waiting for him. Reaching inside, he grabbed a pair of trunks and life jackets. Dodging into the bathroom to change and avoid the chefs and waiters, he held his breath behind the door. His aunt had seen him for sure.

When no sound of capture came, he changed hurriedly and ducked his head around the door to peer for any who may have stopped him. Luckily, his aunt had disappeared into the kitchen, and he was able to creep out back through the back door with the life vests.

It wasn't exactly exciting, his life, but he did his best with it. He wasn't a child pretending to be a spy, but he was a person trying valiantly to inject creative excitement into his days. He sighed.

When he reached the boat again, Emily was already there, leaning against its "hull", if it was big enough to be called that. She was facing the ocean, her tawny hair blowing in the wind.

He hopped back onto the little boat with a small smile to her. Easily rolling it through the bay despite the minefield of other boats and little ships, Nick relaxed, feeling the sun warm on his back. Emily sat back as well, noting the clear blue skies and the gentle waters that lapped lazily at the receding shore. All that could go wrong was the usual – they wouldn't find the pirates' leftovers.

People had been searching for lost treasures for centuries, and had never found anything of worth, besides a couple of gold coins washed up inside large, deformed fish. How they got there, and why the fish were so malformed was an unsolved mystery.

"Where shall we look today?" Nick asked with mock politeness, gesturing out at the open ocean.

Emily grinned, and then, with a straight face, said "Perhaps we shall let the wind and the sea to take us where they will today," using a British-sounding accent.

Nick nodded, and with a perfect poker face, answered, "Of course, your Highness," adding a bow. He gunned the engine once more.

Both watched in a comfortable silence as the blue-green water below them rushed by, occasionally offering them a glance of colorful sea-life. As time passed, Emily felt a lulling sense of sleep which nearly pulled her under -

- That is, until the little speedboat struck a reef, flinging the two of them overboard. The engine stalled, and then went out, leaving two kids stranded in the middle of the ocean.

Coughing and sputtering, Emily surfaced first, weighing less, and thus easier for her life vest to drag upwards. After a few seconds, Nick was hauled up by his vest, a few feet from her.

"Nick! Are you okay?"

"You okay?" They shouted at the same time.

"Yeah, just a little wet." Emily said, trying futilely to squeeze dry her sodden, dark hair. Giving up, she brushed it off her small face.

"Same here." He picked a strand of seaweed out of his own hair. His sun-tanned skin was completely wet.

"What happened?" She asked, swimming towards the slowly drifting boat. It bobbed lightly in the water, showing no signs of ever crashing or hitting a reef.

"I don't know. It was driving well, and then…it was like we hit a wall or something. Do you think we hit a shark or something like that?" He started towards the boat as well.

Before answering, Emily unbuckled the life-vest and dove under. She blinked against the uncomfortable salinity of the water, but could see no reef or large object anywhere. Ducking under the prow, she checked for new scrapes. There were none.

Resurfacing again, she shook her head. "It's really odd. There's nothing here. And the boat doesn't even have a little scratch. It makes no sense. Were we just going really fast and then the engine stopped?"

"No, that couldn't be, since we should have just coasted a bit until the water stopped us." He clambered back onto it. He slowly turned the key again, and the engine sprang to life. He shot a confused look at Emily.

She climbed in after him and pulled her life-jacket on once more. Nick slowly edged the boat forward, as if he was testing his "wall". It slid through the water as if it was brand new. Both of them shrugged and continued at a slower pace than before.

--

After a while, Nick turned on the little built-in GPS in the boat. "I wonder where we are now. I forgot to keep track after we hit – whatever it was that we hit."

"Yeah, same here. Plus, I haven't seen any land anywhere, not for a long while. Should we head back?" Emily answered.

When he didn't say anything, she asked, "Nick? Nick!" He didn't respond. Instead, he was poring over the GPS, tapping it and refreshing it.

She leaned over to see what was going on, and paled. "It doesn't know where we are…" The dreadful realization hit them at the same time, though Nick had had an inkling of it, and simply refused to believe it.

"How is that even possible?" he asked to no one in a hoarse voice thick with dread. His head drooped into his hands. "What do we do now?"

"I…I'm not sure…" She gazed out at the vast open blueness around her. Then she turned around, digging into the little box under her seat. "The compass…"she trailed off.

It was spinning wildly out of control.

_**Sleepy are the edges of time…**_

* * *

**Hey guys. Sorry for the extra-long hiatus on this. School's started, and my classes have been bombarding me to death with endless hours of homework. Unfortunately, I've got lots of stuff happening, and so little time. Therefore, I have to give a little warning announcement: this story and all others I have/am writing (both pennames) will not be updated frequently at all. I will do everything in my power to try and update as often as possible, but I make no promises on when the next chapter will arrive.**

**Thus, unfortunately, I leave you. Send me a review or PM telling me what you think might/should happen next, and that may possibly weave its way into my storyline!**

**--**_**Sepulchral Roses--**_


	6. La Isla

_She leaned over to see what was going on, and paled. "It doesn't know where we are…" The dreadful realization hit them at the same time, though Nick had had an inkling of it, and simply refused to believe it. _

"_How is that even possible?" he asked to no one in a hoarse voice thick with dread. His head drooped into his hands. "What do we do now?"_

"_I…I'm not sure…" She gazed out at the vast open blueness around her. Then she turned around, digging into the little box under her seat. "The compass…"she trailed off._

_It was spinning wildly out of control.

* * *

_There was a long, still pause. The air was suffocating, toxic, and thick, as if it was releasing the growing suspicions of thousands of years all at once. All at once, and into the hearts of these two unwary young sailors.

Finally, Emily took a long, drawn-out breath and let it out very slowly. "First land," she said. It was enough of a decision to break the tensioned air.

"Em, that could be miles." Nick was always practical. He was completely dry now, and the salt clung to him, turning his tanned skin white, as it did Emily. Her hair had dried to its normal gold-brown color, the salt making her look like she had some chronic case of dandruff.

"It doesn't matter, just keep going, and we'll stop the first place we see. We're stuck here in the middle of the ocean, and I'm dead sure neither of our cell phones are working. Heck, even the compass is going insane! Wherever we find ourselves later, chances are, we'll get back somehow, even if we have to time travel or something." She had no idea of the truth behind her sarcastic words.

"I suppose. I mean we have had a weird enough days already, what with whatever we hit…Yeah, this is probably the worst it'll get. So let's get on." They both clambered back to their seats, not bothering to check their cell phones for a signal in the futile openness. Neither asked what would happen if night fell before they reached land.

After a while, there was nothing to draw their attention – without their notice, the whole sea had become a steely gray, showing no life but that of filthy bacteria and a lot of silt. The constant, deep purring of the motor and the easy rocking of the little boat soon had both of them drowsing.

A current carried them farther off their course, seemingly as if it was meant to carry them to a certain place…

Nick was the first to awake. It was dark as pitch, but he could barely discern a looming shape ahead. Unafraid, he knew it must be land, thus he turned on the GPS once more. And again, it registered nothing.

Emily was curled up in her seat the compass tucked safely between her hands. Nick carefully shook her awake, and silently gestured to the compass, and then up at the looming dark shape. She nodded, handing him the compass, and tucking her salt-streaked hair behind her ear.

Leaning forward, she turned the engine off, feeling as if the sound was cutting into whatever was meant to be here. She could see no lights, but assumed that it was late enough for people to all be asleep.

She glanced over at Nick, who was shaking the spinning compass hopelessly. He looked up, frustrated, and caught her glance. He shrugged. Reaching over to turn on the back-up power, he knocked over the flashlight that had been stored under his seat.

When the back-up power was on, he started the engine once more, now setting it to a low, soft growl. Slowly, they inched towards the land.

Nick grabbed the flashlight, and aimed it first below, to see how deep the water was. What he saw did not make him feel better about the ominous island. The light illuminated a shaft down to the bottom, which showed a sunken schooner, and several sharks flitting about.

He looked at Emily, who was leaning over to see as well. She shook her head, and he knew that she was saying something along the lines of "well, we gotta stop here either way. Let's just make the best of it."

She took the flashlight from him and pointed it at the land. It seemed to be an island of some sort, with a short, sandy beach and several natural harbors. She quickly scanned it, trying to assess the best way to spend the night. She was hungry, and exhausted. There was no finding houses until daybreak.

Soon, they felt the grinding of sand under the speedboat as it beached. Emily hopped out quickly, moving close to the monolith that dominated the island. It jutted out a little providing some sort of shelter from the weather. Thankfully, it was warm enough that they wouldn't freeze overnight.

She went back to the boat, and waited patiently until Nick got out, carrying the small survival kit that came with the boat. He had taken off his life jacket, leaving it sprawled on the beach. She pointed out to him the little niche.

Then, she clambered back into the boat, reaching under her seat for the other kit and her cell phone. She checked it quickly for service, and was unsurprised when it had none. Even the time didn't show up on the little LED screen. She tucked it into her pocket.

When she had reached the spot, after taking off her life jacket, she plopped down in front of the boy. He was chewing on a granola bar. Once he finished swallowing, he offered her one. "You hungry?" he asked.

She shook her head but took it. "A little, but I'll live. I'm sure I'll be hungrier tomorrow, and I dunno if we're gonna find any food. What we really need is water. You got any?"

He nodded, reaching into the box that the granola bar had come out of. He tossed her a bottle. "Conserve it," he said. "We only got two."

Emily took a sip, and then a few more, clearing her mouth of the salty taste of the sea. Then, rubbing her eyes, she lay down, stifling a yawn. "'Night," she said, her voice muffled.

Nick fell asleep quickly after that, not quite as hungry as he could have been, and tired from driving the boat all day. Emily, however, tired as she was, watched the stars and pondered the future that they seemed to hide. She loved how they were really a past they could see for a long time. The light she could see in the sky was only a reflection of the millions of years it took for light to finally reach her eyes from its distant glory.

They were like some sort of natural, heavenly time machine.

**EPOV:**

I woke to find a gnawing pain signaling that it was time for me to eat something. I stretched, cramped from sleeping in the sand. I had to find water, and fast. I had sand everywhere, and half a bottle of water wasn't going to do anything.

Finding a stick, I scratched a message to the still-sleeping Nick that I had gone to find water or people, into the sand. It was slightly damp from the dew that had collected overnight on the rocks.

I walked west, my back to the steadily rising sun, which stained the sky a pinkish gold. There was no sign of fresh water for a long while, and to my right nothing but a rocky beach and the unending ocean.

Fortunately, when I was just about to stop and turn back, I noticed a little trickle ahead, which formed a sort of delta into the ocean. I raced up to it, parched, my salt-encrusted clothes chafing my skin. My eyes followed the small stream up into the mountain. A mass covered boulder blocked my view a few feet up.

I clambered up to it, seeing to my delight a fast-moving brook which slowed to a pool in front of the obstructing stone. Almost gleefully, I dunked my entire head in, the frigid water removing all traces of sleep. Lifting my head, I washed my hands, and drunk enough to fill a horse.

When I had drunk my fill and drenched all the salt off me and my clothes, I stepped out of the pool, looking for food. All around me was a sort of rainforest, not uncommon, I decided, judging by the steamy weather.

The trees hung over the creek in an almost protective manner, vines draping over one-another and reaching out to touch the water. Ferns grew in abundance, covering the banks almost entirely. Foggy mist hung over the entire scene like a warm blanket.

After a moment, I made my way slowly up the mountain, searching for something edible. Keeping close to the brook, I meandered about until I came to a sort of clearing. The trees had thinned out considerably, anyway. Near the center of this grove-like area, to my enormous surprise, was a single mango tree.

Not only were these fruits uncommon for the general area, but _a single_ tree? I was instantly suspicious. Using a leaf as some type of make-shift glove, I reached out and picked one. It didn't turn the leaf to dust, but I still didn't trust it completely. Using a stone, I cut it open and looked at it.

It was perfectly fine. No green spots, nothing but a beautiful, aromatic, ripe, mango. I looked back at the tree. It seemed ancient, and healthy, but at the same time as if it hadn't changed in thousands of years. It was strange, to say the least, to see something with this indefinable air of age and youth.

Pulling another fruit, I watched the tree, wanting to see the change this act would cause, if this thing was in fact, a natural tree. To my sheer amazement, the moment I plucked the fruit, another sprouted in its place, exactly the same in size and coloration.

In wonder, I decided, on an odd turn of mind, that the mangoes were safe after all. I took a bite into the one held I my hands, and relished the sweet, ripe, perfect taste. Happily, I grabbed a couple more and started my journey back to Nick, the speedboat, and the little niche – my remaining corner of civilization.

* * *

Upon my return, I found him hunched over the boat, checking its remaining fuel, and its capabilities of getting us home. "Hey," I called. Then, with a giggle at his tattered state, "G'morning, sunshine!"

He glanced up, his eyebrows raising at my much cleaner, better groomed aura. Without waiting for the question, I pointed the way I came, and said, "Go wash up. Now. That way. There's a stream thing that opens out down there, and if you climb up a little, there's a rock. Behind that there's this kind of pool thing. I just sort of jumped in, I was so thirsty. I have food, too, so hurry."

He nodded, and then with a sideways grin, he ruffled his hair and stalked off towards the stream. "Sure, sure, whatever you say, _mom_."

I gasped in mock shock. "How _dare_ you, young man?!" I ran up and kicked sand at him, doubling back behind the boat when he tried to retaliate it. Laughing, he shook his head at my hyper-ness, and continued walking. "Thank you, thank you very much," he said. "I do love a good sandy breakfast, ladies and gentlemen."

"And there you have it! Elvis Presley folks! No, don't go for the autographs now, he'll be here all week!"

"Yes, yes I will. Thank you, Queen, for that wonderful de-introduction. Thank you very much." He flicked his hair back, and waved, starting a little jog for his oh-so-dramatic exit.

I laughed, shaking my head, and leaned back against the boat, facing the brilliantly blue sky. It was spotted with a few clouds floating lazily in little puffs. Turning my head, I found an abrupt slap into reality when I noticed the huge, boiling mass of dark clouds that hung low on the horizon.

They were a dark purple, seeming to seethe in anger. I was sure that they were coming our way, and we absolutely had to find some sort of shelter, and fast. To be caught in _that_ would promise our deaths.

Shuddering, I took the flashlight from the boat, and made my way along the other side of the beach, away from where I had found the stream. In a few minutes, I stopped short at a rock wall. It grew high into the air, bending backwards and forming the tip of the mountain, sparsely covered in trees. It stretched around, making the edge of the island and erasing the beach.

Sighing, I followed my tracks back to the boat, where Nick was waiting for me, watching the cloud barricade closing in.

"We need shelter," he said, not looking down.

"I know. I was looking for some back there, but it's only the mountain. There isn't even any beach left…" I turned around, looking at the little spot where we had fallen asleep.

"Come on! I have an idea!" I said suddenly, staring into the crevice. Hearing Nick's arrival, I crawled in, further and further. The little hole was cramped and hard, and I had to almost slither through, much less crawl or walk. We kept going in silence; the only noise was our grunts and the scrapes of our clothes and skin against the rock.

It seemed like a never-ending hole. After what must have been at least a half hour, Nick tapped my ankle, and I stopped.

"Do you think this leads anywhere? Because if it rains as much as it looked like it would, we're going to be flooded in here. It's right at sea-level, and the beach is only a few feet wide." I couldn't even see his face, the darkness was so intense.

I continued on, saying between "steps", "I don't know, but we better keep going, and faster. The deeper we go, the less water'll reach us, so let's go further. Quickly!" I could hear faintly the beginnings of the rain pounding on the mountain.

Not too long after that, the first few trickles of water leaked through Nick's clothes. Not saying anything, he just pushed against my feet, signaling me to go faster. Unfortunately, my fastest wasn't quite fast enough. The water soon rose until it was nearly up to our faces.

We sloshed through until there was a current, and a tiny roar far ahead. "Nick, I think we found some sort of cavern in here! It can't be that far, because there's a current. That's why the water never stopped coming, and that's why the sand is so striated – this hole must have been carved by the water itself, over the centuries. Just a bit faster, come on!"

I almost swam with the current, my feet dragging slightly against the sand. Nick agreed, "Right. Let's keep going." And he too, began a sort of swim.

Finally, we reached the other end. The current was strong, and I was gripping the edges of the tunnel to stop from being thrown out. It had gotten wider, too, and the water level was slightly lower. Nick came up beside me, and yelled above the noise, "Hold on to me. I'm going to check how far down the bottom is!" He pointed to the whole to make sure I understood.

I nodded, and grabbed his feet. He slowly leaned into the opening, his head submerging. He crawled forward until his shoulders were on the outside of the hole. After a couple of seconds, he started trying to get out.

The current was quite strong, and I had to pull with a considerable amount of my strength to free him from its clutches.

Once inside, he stared at me, eyes wide in some mixture of astonishment, fear, excitement, surprise, and soaked-ness. Although the last was most probably a result of the water. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words seemed to come out.

"What?" I asked, peering into the hole. "Is it that far down?"

He shook his head. "I…We…I love you right now." He looked past the water.

"Why? What did I do?" I was confused past the point where I'd notice the blush that rose into my cheeks.

"You found it," he said, in awe.

I gasped. No doubt the "it" was treasure. And not just _any_ treasure. The famed treasure of Cortéz. Fate had brought us right to the very thing we'd spent years searching for. And now we'd found it by accident. Because we were trapped in the middle of one of the biggest storms in the Caribbean in the last thirty years.

I looked at him, the eager question in my eyes. He nodded. "It's not too far down. You can go first, since you found this cave."

I smiled at him in thanks, and slid into the opening, feet first.

For a moment, all that I could feel was water and the force of gravity yanking me down faster. Just as I was about to lose the breath I was holding, the ground came up under me, hard and fast.

With an "oomph!" I landed and rolled out of the way, coughing out the sand and water that had filled my mouth.

In a few seconds, Nick was beside me, doing the same. By that time, though, I was staring in wonder around me. I was on the banks of a little stream fed by the hole, and every surface was covered in gold, silver, and various other valuables. This must have been the largest find in over a century.

It was certainly the treasure of Cortéz. Past many mounds of gold, was a solitary chest sitting on the top of a small hill, lit by some strange light that resembled moon beams. Only, it hadn't stopped raining. The water was still coming in fast through the fissure, and there was a beating sound above.

My eyes were only for the coffer, though, not the odd details. That chest held the treasure that launched a thousand ships, the treasure that killed a thousand men, that only two pirate crews had ever set eyes upon. The original crew of Cortéz, and the cursed crew of another pirate Captain.

_**Sleepy are the edges of time...**_

* * *

**I did it! I posted a chapter! You won't believe how ridiculously amazing that is nowadays with all my crazy classes and stuff for school. But, it got here (finally), and it's somewhat dramatic.**

_**PLEASE review – I could hardly finish this for the fact that I feel like no one is reading. It's really sad when an author puts in time and effort, and doesn't get any response.**_

**Thankya!**

**~_Sepulchral Roses  
_**

By the way, if you haven't figured it out, I have no affiliation with PoTC, because if I did, this would probably not be here, I wouldn't be in a High School, and the movie would probably get started.**  
**


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